Barriers
by shrewdone
Summary: Still, what other life was there for him if he abandoned his cause? His dreams of being a Sky Pirate were the inheritance of a child’s troubled mind, infantile wishes of glory and freedom.
1. Prologue

Hi there. I've been wanting to write this story for a long time and since all my other work is kind of jammed due to lack of inspiration, I decided that now is as good a time as ever.

This is my outtake on the history of my favourite FFXII couple Fran and Balthier and it goes into the hardship of interracial dating. Drama alert; I am a real sucker for psychological struggle. There will probably be some mature content in later chapters but I write enough of the nitty-gritty in my other stories so I'll keep it (moderately) civilized.

As some already know English is not my first language so there will be consistent, irritating spelling-errors throughout the story. I am still learning however and making steady progress at that so please bear with me and kindly point out any screw-ups. Comments are always welcome, provided that any criticism is constructive.

I admit that I've had to consult the FFXII Wiki page and some fan-sites on various subjects, especially the whole Magicite-Nethicite theme. Does that make me a bad fan? I hope not… Any errors concerning this will hopefully be pointed out to me without the use of flames. Nope, don't like those.

The title is bad and I'll probably change it later on, but for now I just want to get this prologue up and hopefully the first chapter later this night.

Hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

**Barriers**

**Prologue**

The longing for a glance outside the woods of her homeland had lived in Fran for as long as she could remember. It was an ever present ache for knowledge of the lands beyond the boarders of Golmore Jungle and a strong will for adventure. As she grew up these desires became ever stronger, though long had the young Viera fought against it since it was made clear to her that such wishes were unhealthy and forbidden to her kin. The Viera lived in the woods and She was their mother, none of her children should ever question their existence within. This was their home and the lands outside were for other races; Humes, Bangaas, Seeqs and other unlighted beings. None of them could even begin to comprehend the splendour of the land of the wood-dwellers. They were ignorant beings, deaf to the voice of the wood, the almighty Mother of the Viera.

This was what Fran had been taught, the Green Word was their law and thus, her feelings being considered profane, she spent much of her life hating herself for her adventurous heart. Gradually she retreated from every day life in the village of Eruyt, spending her days meandering through Golmore Jungle and dwelling in solitude in the tree-village. It was not as much her choice to avoid contact as it was that of her kin. The Viera preferred to steer clear from her, sensing in her the will to leave the lands of their beloved Mother. The wood-dwellers were alarmed and frightened even to witness her inner battle in which her loyalty to the woods and her longing for venture beyond it's boarders strove against one another. They feared also that she would set alight a similar longing in other Viera since Fran proclaimed often that though they were born from the woods, their paths were not bound to tread only beneath the trees and that the Viera might find life in the lands outside.

And as Fran grew more and more isolated from her people, the calling of the lands beyond finally became too strong to longer ignore. Still she fought to refuse knowing that once she left, she would not be allowed to return and she did love the woods dearly. It wasn't until her younger sister Mjrn began to display a similar fascination for the outside world that Fran finally answered the calling. The curse that had been put upon her would end with her. She would take her lust for adventure away from her kin so that the Viera could continue to live in peace within the grace of the woods. Upon her leave she was banished by her own blood, her sister Jote bid her never to return. Solemnly Fran made her that promise.

The pain of her banishment had been unbearable when young Fran embarked upon her journey to the outside world, but as she witnessed first the lands of Ozmone Plane, her heart swelled with joy and her blood boiled with feverish excitement. She had never felt more alive than at that moment when the bright sun, unhindered by leaf and trunk, gently caressed her face, a light wind playing her hair and scents both unknown and enthralling filled her nose. She was freed at last and the beauty was that, despite what the Viera and Jote in particular told her, she felt the wood sing strongly within her. Though her kin had banished her, the beloved Mother had not.

Fran roamed the lands aimlessly just enjoying her freedom and reveling at the beautiful sights of Ozmone until she came to Jahara and the village of the Garif. Here she settled and learned from them their ways and wisdom and they taught her the way of the Garif Warrior. Her adventurous heart, ever hungry, drove her onwards eventually and she went to travel with the Nomads of Giza Plains and after that she met other wayfarers whom she joined to the cities of Humes: Rabanastre, Nalbina and later the Sky City of Bhujerba which they reached by the use of an airship. That first flight made Fran's heart sing and she made many more after that. She went in learning with an engineer, developing meticulous knowledge on airship maintenance.

Countless years Fran wandered the wonderous world outside the woods, eager to learn and guided by her instinct - as she would call it - that brought her upon the paths of Humes and Seeqs, Bangaas and Moogles and all of them shared with her their knowledge. Finally she reached Valendia and it was in the Emperial City of Archades that her adventurous heart long found peace. Here she met a man who went by the name of Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, an ambitious scientist who was profoundly interested in the working of Nethicite. Doctor Cid took her in and together they researched to unravel the mysteries of this most peculiar form of Magicite. It was her fascination of the Mist that lulled her heart to slumber and allowed her to remain in this place content for so many a years. Nevertheless she knew that one day her heart would spur her on once more to unknown adventures for this was her calling.


	2. I The contrive of Gramis

**Chapter I. The contrive of Gramis  
**

Ffamran hadn't even been surprised when he heard of the death of the Emperor's second son. It was only expected that after the passing of Gramis Gana Solidor's eldest son, his second would soon follow. Being a Judge meant upholding the law, but in his short year of service Ffamran learned that this was mere ceremony; there existed no unattached law system in Archades. If he were to denounce Gramis, lay bare his guilt and demand he was brought to justice as a Judge was supposed to, the other Judges would surely have his head. He could just vomit thinking of the corrupt bunch that was appointed to enforce law in their Empire. Every single Judge knew, or at least suspected, that it was Emperor Gramis himself who had given young lord Vayne order to kill both his older brothers because the Emperor feared they would revolt and seize control of his throne. Even so the judges did nothing about this iniquity and it was likely that the matter would be passed off as naught but a terrible tragedy amongst the people of Archades. None would even suspect the Emperor capable of such crimes, the Judges put tireless effort in assuring that his reputation and that of the whole of House Solidor remained unstained.

Ffamran stared at the heavy casque lying in his iron-clad hands and it occurred to him once more how deeply he had grown to hate his homeland. He found himself often wondering why he was even still here. Not for his father who, even if he had always been more interested in science and Magnicite than in his own son, had now arrived at a point were he had eye for nothing but Nethicite and wouldn't even bother talking to his son anymore. Ffamran couldn't say it hurt him, not in the way it had hurt him in his younger years, but it still smarted. He felt utterly alone and dispossessed. Not only was he failing as a Judge because he wasn't allowed to deal out justice, not without the loss of his life in any case, he also realised now that he lived for a cause he did not believe in. The only reason why he had become a Judge in the first place was to please his father and now he was under the command of men with war and violence on their minds.

Still, what other life was there for him if he abandoned his cause? His dreams of being a Sky Pirate were the inheritance of a child's troubled mind, infantile wishes of glory and freedom. Being the Leading Man in a story of dangerous adventure and heraldry were nothing but a desperate longing to be noticed and he knew that in his childhood years all he really wanted was his father's attention. To become a Sky Pirate now was only giving into this childish longing within him and he had decided years ago that he could do perfectly without the love of his father. Perhaps he could justify becoming a Sky Pirate by stating that he was doing this for himself and not for the desire of being noticed by his father, that he really wanted the fame and glory and treasures he would seek, but in his heart he knew that his intentions would not be so. If he really decided to make his childhood dream come true, he would also have to accept that he in some part still was that little boy who wanted his father's love. He didn't think he was ready to face that truth.

…

Fran was ill at ease. She could not really define it, but something stirred within her. A sense of foreboding. She'd experienced this feeling before but it seemed strangely significant, as if the actions she took now would decide the fate of many. Usually she got this feeling of foreboding when great changes were about to become apparent in her own life, like when she left her land all those years ago, or when she arrived in Archades and met Cid. This time however it seemed that the coming changes in her own life wouldn't just affect hers.

Her instinct dragged her from the chair she had been sitting in and she excused herself to the bent back of Doctor Cid looming over his notes and incoherently muttering to himself as he so often did lately. The man didn't even notice her so Fran left the laboratory and traversed down the several levels of Draklor Laboratory relying on her senses to guide her to wherever she needed to be. The halls were filled with Imperials clad in heavy armour, their faces hidden behind steel helmets. They paid no heed to her as she passed but she felt eyes lingering on her retreating back. It weren't nearly as many eyes as would usually follow her, there seemed other matters on the minds of the Imperials right now.

Fran sensed the doubt and anticipation thick within these halls: the death of Gramis' second son had been devastating news to all. The scent of their unease prickled her nose like cactoid needles. Many now felt the turmoil in the Empire she long had foreseen: change would come to these lands. She understood at once that Archades' unrest was intertwined with her feeling of foreboding. All of this somehow connected but she had not the skill to unravel the threads and see to what they would lead.

She paced out onto the streets of Tsenoble deaf to the bravura of Archades' city folk. She had a destination only known to her instinct and it carried her feet swiftly through the crowd. Before long she found herself standing before the Royal Guard of the Imperial Palace.

"What business have you in the palace, Viera?" One of them demanded, his voice dampened behind his grotesque headpiece.

"I wish to speak to Judge Ffamran Mied Bunansa." Fran spoke and finally her destination was revealed to her.

She agreed with her instinct. It was wise to speak with Ffamran of his father and his obsession with the Nethicite. Perhaps the young man could reason with Doctor Cid or maybe he knew what had taken hold of him. Sons often knew their fathers' motives better than they realised.

"Then you do well to arrange an audience with him elsewhere. The palace is off limits to peasants." The second guard stated haughtily.

"I am no peasant. I work for Cidolfus Demen Bunansa and he has sent me to the palace on an errand." Fran replied.

She carelessly showed the man her pass of Draklor Laboratory. Many Imperials and Judges knew her as Doctor Cid's assistant but the late frantic recruiting of the Imperial Army made it so that there were hordes of new soldiers every day. The two Imperials seemed to shrink where they stood and allowed her passage straight away with a sudden excessive humbleness and empty apologies. Yes, Doctor Cid was regarded highly by the Senate and House Solidor. Fran wasn't one to enjoy such status and fancied not to see men cower before her like this, but being Cid's assistant and the privileges bound to that job did come in handy from time to time.

Fran entered the majestic palace and even if she had no idea where Ffamran was at that moment, her instinct soon brought her on his doorstep. The young man was seated on the edge of a bed listlessly fingering a silver helmet in his hands. A vague sadness penetrated her keen senses coming from him and with that a smouldering anger and bitter feelings of uselessness. She cleared her throat to announce her presence.

Ffamran was pulled from his pondering and looked up to find the strange Viera. He knew her, she was his father's assistant with whom he'd never exchanged more than the usual formalities and he was therefore surprised to find her in the doorway of his room right now. She stood, high heeled, long stemmed and inhumely powerful build with her dangerously clawed hands on her hips apparently waiting for him to invite her in.

"To what do I owe this visit from my father's faithful assistant?" He so asked as he rose from the bed and gestured her in. He made an effort to swallow any sarcastic remarks on his father's deteriorating mental health. He had grown bitter indeed.

Her insanely high heels clicked delicately on the marble floor upon her light-footed entrance, her gait being graceful yet decisive. She took him in calculated as a ceourl, her odd luminous eyes weighing him carefully. This strange being was deadly, that much was plain.

"I have matters of which I wish to speak to you, Ffamran." Fran said.

The young man raised an inquisitive brow at her and the resemblance to his father struck her: his curiousity and eagerness for knowledge were very much like Cid's.

"Sounds serious." Ffamran sighed loosing his interest promptly. He was not in the mood to hear about bloody Nethicite and his father's progress on creating Manufactured Nethicite and surely that was why the Viera had come. His father never failed to keep him updated on his glorious career as the Emperor's pioneering scientist. It stung Ffamran that even this was now brought to his attention through others instead of his father himself coming to him boasting about his unparalleled ingenuity. Whatever bonds they might've had left to share were seemingly now cut as well. "This wouldn't happen to be about another one of the fantastic Doctor Cid's discoveries, would it? I have no ear for Nethicite."

Fran shook her head and not only to disagree with him. His bitterness pecked at her skin like thousands of miniscule redmaws. "I worry for your father. He seems very much absorbed by the Nethicite of late. I fear that his ambition has turned to folly. He speaks to himself, whispers of the Undying…"

"Venat." Ffamran interrupted her with a weary nod. "Yes, I have heard this too. He is a babbling old fool, my father. I don't understand how you can even stand being around him. He cares only for Nethicite. There's naught Hume left in him."

"He was an admirable man once, keen, ambitious and ever hungry for knowledge like myself, but after his journey to Giruvegan he is changed. I do not recognize him to be that same man. He feels…" Fran scratched her cheek with a pearly five inch nail searching for the right words. "…hollow. It is as if the very life has been stolen from him, though yet he stands. He will not speak to me of what happened in Giruvegan and his secretiveness troubles me."

Ffamran put the helmet down on the wooden desk in front of him. Her words didn't affect him, he already knew that his father had gone insane and he frankly couldn't afford it to care. He had been burdened by the complexity of their relationship for too long and there simply was no more will in him to give it thought. He had always tried to understand his father, telling himself that the man was just Hume and had his flaws like everyone, that he wasn't good at playing the role of father but that this didn't necessarily make him a bad person. At the same time all he wanted was the father he never had. It was hard to be understanding of someone who continued to hurt him so much. The strain this put on him had finally worn him out and he was spent. He would no longer make up excuses for the mad scientist that had never been a father to him.

Fran studied the young Judge in this long silence and she perceived how lost he was. He was in fact a child still but his eyes proclaimed he had matured faster than he should have. There was little innocence left in him, something she so admired in the children of the Hume race. This was no child, no matter what his age, there was no light in his eyes. He had the deep developed mind of a man, a heavily burdened man. She sensed something urgent in his being even if he stood completely still across her.

"You plan to leave." Fran now realised. This was the haste she sensed in him. He was planning to leave Archades.

He looked at her strange as if wondering how she could possibly know that was the case.

Ffamran started to hoist himself out of the bulky armour that symbolized his position as Judge. The Viera was right, he was leaving, although it hadn't felt like he made that decision until she brought it up just now. "I am."

Fran struggled not to gasp. She felt it again; the boiling of her blood, the tugging of her heart. Her calling. This was the reason why she had come to speak with Ffamran. They were supposed to leave together. "Will you take me with you?"

Ffamran was finished ridding himself of his armour and halted in the middle of pulling a simple leather body-piece over his white tunic. "Tired of being around the delusional doctor, are you? I have no idea where I am off to, but you are welcome to join me when I pirate one of the new fighters and take her out on a nightly test flight."

Fran was positively surprised by his boldness. "You would steal one of the army's ships?"

"How else do you suggest we get out of here? The Judges will never allow me my leave and when I'm fleeing I would prefer to do so with good transportation." Ffamran made a careless gesture with his hand. "Besides, with the ingenuity of my old man at their disposal it wouldn't be long before the army demands he comes up with a better model and before you know it those babies are hopelessly outmoded. Now will you come, or not?"

Fran had to admit that he had a nice way of justifying his planned theft and she was pleased knowing they were about to embark on one hell of an adventure. "When do we leave?"


	3. II Escape from Archades

**Chapter II. Escape from Archades**

Fran followed Ffamran through the endless corridors of the Imperial Palace at a steady pace. With the help of her sensitive hearing they had managed to avoid a run in with any Imperials or Judges so far and the airship-docks were already in sight. It was night and there wasn't much folk up and about at this hour, except for the usual Imperials on guard duty the place was conveniently quiet.

Earlier Fran had returned to her quarters at Draklor to retrieve her bow. It was the only thing she would be taking with her on this new adventure. There wasn't much she held dear but her bow, a gift from the Garif she received when she left them, was something she refused to part with. It had aided her in so many tight situations dealing with fiends that she felt it had become as much a part of her as her own limbs. She hadn't said goodbye to Cid even if he had been her mentor for years. They were supposed to leave in silence and besides that she didn't think the Doctor would've cared to pay attention to her.

Ffaram didn't take much with him either, only a small pouch containing some potions and a golden sirius strapped to his back. Everything else he might need he would pick up somewhere later. He wanted nothing of his past accompanying him on this flight for freedom. He was ready to cast aside the old him and become someone else, someone he maybe could come to like and be proud of. It should start, he decided, by coming up with a new name for himself. That would also help to keep him hidden from the Judges in the future. But what name would he give himself? What befitted the Leading Man of this story?

"There are men around this next corner." Fran alerted.

Ffaram left his spirited fantasy and focused on the here and now. They still had to manage pirating a ship, without that he wouldn't even have use for a new name. He had expected the docks to be guarded and it was time to set in his plan.

"I want that ship." He announced hushed while pointing at a small airship hovering beside the dock on the far edge.

"How will you get those men away?" Fran asked sensing three Humes just on the other side of the wall where they were standing.

She complied when he pushed her behind him closer to the wall with his arm. In his free hand he held a small device and he brought it to his mouth, pressed a button and yelled in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.

"All men at level four airship-dock security report to the Judge Magister office at once by order of Judge Bergan. On the double or there will roll heads."

It sounded as though the order had come from the communication system of the Palace and not from the mouth of the young man standing next to her. He grinned absolutely mischievously up at her.

Within seconds the three men behind the wall came stamping into the corridor, the steel of their heavy armour clanging and breaking the silence . They hurried pass them without noticing their presence bidding one another to make haste.

Ffamran was pleased that his little plan worked but he hadn't really doubted it would. If one Judge could manage to make grown men run like the devil was behind them, it was the brute Judge Bergan.

"That takes care of them. Now off we go to soar the endless skies." He said surprised by his own cheerful demeanor.

If this were a mere infantile dream of his, then why did it feel so ridiculously good to finally make it come true? He shook it off, leaving the question unanswered until he had time to mull it over in his head. First they had to make it out of Archades without getting caught. Motioning the Viera to follow he cantered soundlessly onto the now unguarded airship-docks. He stopped at the side entrance of the airship of his choice distracted when he caught a glimpse of the illuminate blue ring around the middle finger of his left hand. On impulse he pulled it off and chucked it away, releasing himself once and for all from his father's suffocating binds.

"Don't!" Fran called but it was too late. The ring tumbled off the ship-dock to the city below. "Why did you throw that away? It was the ring Cid made to commend you on receiving your title as Judge."

Ffamran snorted and pushed the button to open the door to the airship. "Mere acts of establishing and enhancing my status, I assure you. It certainly had nothing to do with any commendation to my address. A display of power: the scientist's son bearing a ring of Nethicite, nothing more."

Fran halted in the doorway turning to face him with her head tilted in estimation. His bitterness was nipping at her again. "Do you hate your father so, Ffamran? He was not always who he is now."

Ffamran brushed pass her into the belly of the ship evading her strange searching eyes. "He was to me. Come now. Those Imperials are bound to return soon and I doubt they will let us embark without inquiry."

Fran nodded and followed him in. Her attention was immediately drawn away from Ffamran and to the interior of the small fighter. She had been right there when Doctor Cid designed the blueprints for this particular model and it had fascinated her from day one. The small elongated flat airship was designed to be swift and nimble, Fran had seen this all worked out on paper. Still her enthusiasm then did not come close to the feeling of awe she had now that she was actually standing here within this truly remarkable invention.

"She is beautiful." She felt compelled to say.

"One of his better inventions, I agree. She can still use some modifications, though."

They hurried into the cockpit and took the two front seats both swiftly flipping switches in order to take off.

"You know your stuff." Ffamran remarked pleased to notice this, the Viera could well prove to be a good partner if she knew how to handle airships and by the looks of her strong body fighting wasn't strange to her either.

"I was a member of the Bhujerba Aerieel Guild before I came to Archades." She replied without any bravura.

It surprised Ffamran to see that the Viera wasn't prone to boasting like the people of Archades: she merely stated the fact taking no pride in this achievement though the eminent Aerieel Guild of Bhujerba was well known even in Archades. This was strange to him for he grew up in a culture where children learned the art of bragging before being able to properly walk and talk. Realising that he was staring at her quite stupidly he cleared his throat and focused on the controls in front of him.

"Ready?" He asked.

Fran fastened her seatbelt with a decisive nod. "Give her the whip."

The young man seemed to need no more encouragement and the fighter took off with such speed that Fran was squished back into her seat. Her heart leapt in her chest, her stomach fluttering with excitement as she felt the insane power of the small airship. The night sky whisked passed as they made their escape from the Archadian airspace. It wasn't before they were well on their way that the Archadian Air Control demanded identification.

"You have another trick up your sleeve then?" Fran asked looking curiously at the young man who didn't seem worried in the least.

Ffamran gave her a another one of his famed elegant smiles. "Nothing grand I'm afraid, but it will buy us enough time to get away." He flipped the speaker switch and stated: "This is Judge Ffamran. I am on the intruder's tail."

"Judge Ffamran!" The voice sounded relieved but after a short silence it hollered through the speaker: "What intruder? Nothing shows on our radar except you!"

"It must be avoiding the dispense of radio-signals with the use of some form of Magicite, it is right in front of me. Small ship, definitely not of Archadian making." Ffamran replied and as expected the words coming from the son of Magicite expert Doctor Cid were not doubted.

There sounded tumult on the background at the other end of the line and then a much deeper voice barked: "Bring the intruder to me alive, Ffamran!"

It was none other than the great Judge Bergan himself and he was clearly pissed off due to some fake command that had brought three guard to his office just minutes earlier.

Ffamran decided to toy with the Judge just a bit longer. "That will take more time, sir. Why not shoot him out of the air and be done with it. I have the ship in clear sight."

"I want that scum here alive!" Bergan repeated furiously . "You hear me, Ffamran? Whatever it takes!"

"Aye sir." And with that Ffamran flicked off the speaker switch saying loosely: "Dear me, I believe we just lost contact with Air Control."

And so young Judge Ffamran disappeared from Archades without a trace and also Doctor Cid's Viera assistant had up and left without informing anyone of her departure. When Bergan finally discovered Ffamran's betrayal it was too late to assemble a party for the pursuit and the infuriated Judge was forced to hunt down the defector through other channels.


	4. III Balthier, Leading Man

**Chapter III. Balthier, Leading Man**

They had been flying for the bigger part of the night only talking when the control of the ship required it. No Imperial airships followed them and it seemed they made it out of Archades safe. Ffamran was busy thinking of his future and especially focused on the new name he would give himself. In the end he decided that it would be Balthier because he liked it and he found it well fit for a Leading Man.

"I'm taking on a new name. From now on I will be Balthier." He told the Viera.

She cocked her head to face him, the expression on her dark face totally unmoved. She didn't question his motives or even consider it strange by the looks of it and she again struck him as a strange and incomprehensible being.

"Balthier." She tested the name in her soft hoarse voice.

Balthier liked his new name even better when it was pronounced in the Viera's odd accent. Well fit for a Leading Man indeed. "You don't think it strange for me to take on another name?"

Fran examined his young face deeply, eventually stopping at his inquisitive brown eyes. "Names have little worth. It is the deeds that distinguish the person." She returned to staring out of the window maundering: "Yet, it fits you, Balthier."

"Good then. Can I call you Fran?"

"That is my name." She simply said.

Balthier frowned at her but since she seemed occupied with staring out of the window he soon did the same. Not much of a talker, his new companion, but maybe it was all for the better. The less they talked, the more he could give attention to his own thoughts and those were rather interesting. There were various things to do now. For one, he wanted to update the ship and make it his own and for this he needed gil. He went over the possibilities of earning quick money coming to the conclusion that the fastest way to go about it was by mark hunting.

The direction in which they were flying now would soon take them to Nabradia and though this kingdom was on the boarders of Archadia, Balthier gathered that it was far enough from the Imperial City for him to safely start his new carrier there. Even if Bergan would send a search party after him, and of this he was certain, it would still take the hunters a lot of trouble finding him considering that they had no idea to what corners of Ivalice he might've fled.

Balthier turned to the Viera at his side finding her still staring out of the window. It occurred to him that he didn't even know why she'd asked him to take her with him and where she might be headed herself.

"Where are you going, Fran?"

The dark woman stirred slowly, unwillingly as if disturbed from deep thought.

"That depends." Fran eventually answered. "Do you know where we're going?"

Seemed like the Viera planned to stick with him for a while. Balthier couldn't really say he minded, but it still bothered him that he didn't know the reason why. For all he knew his father could be behind this, though he couldn't quite come up with a reason for that. And if this wasn't the case, what other business could the strange woman possibly have with him? "Begging your pardon, but why are you coming with me?"

Fran listened to the river's flow miles away that had spoken to her for the past hours. It was a small river yet decisive in its path and it whispered to her now of Bangaa's on its stream hunting for fish. An amusing recapitulation but not really important so she returned to her conversation with the young man at her side.

"It is the will of what shall be." The Viera finally answered cryptically.

Balthier didn't know what to make of this answer and refused to give up his inquiry so easily. "Can you see the future?"

"I cannot." Fran admitted. "I can see the present in many places of Ivalice and much of the past, but to look into the future is a power none but the Occuria possess."

Balthier's curiosity still wasn't satisfied. "Then how can you know the will of what shall be?"

"This I sense." Fran answered and before he could open his mouth to ask anything else which he was most likely to do, she continued: "I dare not explain it for it has been a riddle to myself all my life. I only know that I must follow when it calls."

Balthier finally gave up admitting that this mystic stuff was way above his comprehension and he returned to an earlier subject: "I need gil for the modification of this ship and I plan to get it through pirating. How does that stand with you?"

"Thievery?"

The young man simply nodded.

Fran considered this. "I do not much fancy the ways of Sky Pirates. They have little regard for equity."

"What if we were to take from those who already have too much or from those who stole what they possess? That would make us quite the equitable band of thieves, wouldn't it?" Balthier remonstrated with his swift mind.

The Viera didn't vocalize her agree, but he knew she did when she asked: "What modifications would you make on the ship?"

"I think it best to start with altering the ship's exterior to make her unrecognizable for any Archadians we might encounter. I must reckon with the possibility that I'm being followed, such is the way of Bergan and his lot. They do not forget treachery easily and mine the least. I know many things that would do harm to Emperor Gramis' reputation should they become public." Balthier rubbed his chin in a thoughtful gesture and continued: "We also want to make this place suitable for living. The ship will serve as our basis from which we operate so we need rooms and beds and all the comforts of a home. No objections yet?"

Fran couldn't say she had any. "Your plans are sensible. Where will we start?"

"In Nabradia."

Fran felt a whiff of melancholy realising how close Nabradia brought her to her homeland. Yes, it was still many miles to the South, but she was closer now to Eruyt than she had been for decades. She had not the courage to look to the direction of the woods because she feared that it would prove futile and she would not be able to sense her people. The Green Word had long since left her, the beloved Mother sang to her no more. When she'd lost touch with the woods she didn't know, it had happened over time. Long had the Mother sung to her after she left Eruyt and even longer, as it grew weak, the murmur of the song remained within her until one day the comforting distant hum was chased away by utter silence to never return. The Mother had finally banished her from her grace. As much as it hurt, it was the path she had chosen and she bore her pain with dignity. Nevertheless she was having a hard time coping, her pain being intensified now that she was so close to home. Sadness brimmed within her.

Balthier focused back on the controls as the Viera fell silent once again and he was utterly puzzled by her detached behaviour. For someone who had just embarked on a journey with an unknown destination and a perfect stranger as companion, she was oddly indifferent about any of it. She seemed perfectly fine with the idea of following his lead and leaving the decisions to him and though this was exactly what a Leading Man expected of his companions, it made little sense to him. Then again, nothing about this mysterious being made any sense to him and it was likely that it never would. All he knew of the Viera race were the commonly known things: that they lived in the woods and were creatures of great magick. Besides that he had no idea who or what he was dealing with.

Scanning Fran thoroughly from the corner of his eye only one explanation came to mind: the Viera were a divine race, closer perhaps to the Gods than to the races of Ivalice. Beings of power and wisdom that went far beyond the imagination of normal men. He felt small suddenly in the presence of this enigma, pathetically insignificant and yet she entrusted him with the task of leading them in this adventure so she certainly didn't consider him insignificant.

The Leading Man Balthier he had now become did not intend to let his partner down but he could really only hope and pray that he was capable of proving himself worthy her trust.


	5. IV Building the Strahl

**Chapter IV. Building the Strahl**

The newly founded duo of Sky Pirates soon discovered that there was enough work to find in the small Nabradian city Lazardhan where they'd finally landed after a full night's flight. They berthed the airship in the city's Aerodrome and took up their first hunt at a small Tavern called _The Wayfarers Retreat_ where a desperate hawker had put up a bill for the hunting of a Tyrant. The hawker had been traveling the Firedrake Paseo on his way to the Mosphoran Highwaste when he encountered the dragon. Scared out of his wits he fled back to Lazardhan and waited for someone to accept his hunt, kill the Tyrant and clear him a path.

After stocking up on supplies the duo immediately set out to the Firedrake Paseo, Fran with her bow at the ready and Balthier clutching his sirius in his hand so tight that his knuckles were white, his other hand repeatedly creeping to feel the hilt of a small sword on his belt.

He hated admitting it but he was nervous. As a Judge he'd naturally learned how to use all sort of weapons and he was a fair swordsman, but he'd never actually fought for his life against fiends before. The experience he had in sword-fighting he'd obtained through practice duels with other Imperials. He'd always taken these duels seriously but his life had never depended on his victory. After a defeat he would smart and bleed from the strikes of the practice swords, which had been nothing more than bound together bundles of slender pinewood sprigs, but he had never been mortally wounded. Fighting a Tyrant could very well mean receiving his first serious injuries and he wasn't too happy with that prospect.

The Viera at his side seemed unmoved like always as her keen eyes scanned their surroundings for any sign of their mark. Her tread was light and springy corresponding well to the dreamhare-like ears poking up through the black headgear she wore. It took him some effort to keep up with her long swift strides and he dared to guess that she wasn't even trotting half as fast as she in fact could.

Fran kept a close eye out for any serpents: the tall grass of the Firedrake Paseo was a likely habitat for those coiling beasts. On their left was a jagged edge of rocks, the land behind it sloping down to a vast green vale beneath and on their right a tall mountain rose towards the pale blue sky. The Firedrake Paseo traversed the side of this mountain all the way down to the Rays of Ashen Light of the Mosphoran Highwaste and it was the only path leading there from Nabradia.

Her eyes found her companion taking swift note of his nervousness. She couldn't deny that she was a bit anxious herself having no clue what they were up against. From what she'd experienced tyrants were a quite powerful type of dragons and this first hunt likely wouldn't be without dangers. Still she had faith in her bow for her arrows would not be stopped by any dragon's scales and could pierce the sturdiest of shields. She also trusted her companion's bullets would not be hindered by the dragon's armour. All in all she expected they stood a fair chance against this tyrant fiend.

Before long a shrill shriek rent the air and they had located their mark. Balthier swallowed when his eyes fell on the enormous red-scaled dinosaur-like creature that trampled about naught a full rod from where they'd halted. It's immense beak was opened to display several rows of knife sharp teeth and it's beady red eyes made Balthier shudder unbidden. He knew the tyrant hadn't noticed them yet, they could still turn around and forget about the hunt. Seeing as how this was very unfit for a Leading Man to think, he promptly dismissed the thought and made ready with rigid movement.

"Well, no sense in standing around. Let us fell this foul beast." He spoke very relieved to notice that his voice didn't lack it's usual firmness.

In reply Fran drew her bow, the sinew moaning from the force in which it was strained to the fullest and with a loud snap the first arrow sailed through the air and was lodged firmly in the tyrant's massive side, her second arrow already being placed in position as the first hit the target. The beast gave a furious cry and whirled around with unexpected agility to face it's assailants with those tiny evil eyes gleaming.

Balthier was very glad that he had his gun: if he aimed his shots right he wouldn't even have to come close to that monstrous beast. Without further delay he opened fire hitting the now raging creature precisely in the soft tissue of its neck. The tyrant reared up with another high pitched cry before charging at them making the ground quack under its sickeningly heavy footfall. Before even having time to panic Balthier's body took over and he sprang lightly on top of one of the rocks that crowned the edge of the path. His second shot stagnated the beast's advance long enough for his companion to make for higher ground as well.

Fran planted her feet firmly on the slanted surface of a large boulder mimicking her partner's action, all the while launching arrows at the beast. Several shafts protruded from its huge body like thorns but they seemed a mere pester for the tyrant. The young Sky Pirate's bullets seemed to do just as little damage and Fran began to doubt if this had been such a good idea after all as the creature continued to advance.

"We have to bring it down!" She called hurriedly over to Balthier on the rock adjacent to hers. "Now!"

"I know that!" He snapped back at her before firing another shot to the unstoppable beast. "Aim for the eyes!"

Then, as Fran did so, the tyrant floundered towards them half blind with a shaft stuck spot on in its right eye. It refused to back down though and was still successfully closing the distance between itself and Balthier on the rock before her.

Just as the creature lunged at Balthier to strike him down, he jumped from the rock and drew his sword cursing under his breath. Why wouldn't this beast die already? A quick hew to the gut brought the tyrant to a jerky halt and as Balthier unyieldingly smote the beast it finally tottered and fell of the cliff to its death in the vale beneath. Covered now in the fiend's blood he stood breathing heavily and feeling victorious. The Viera came to his side asking if he was wounded but save a poorly aimed scratch on his arm he was unharmed.

Fran commented her partner watching how he wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of his white tunic. She was very impressed with his skills. He in return complimented her on her aim and she thanked him.

Their short hike back to Lazardhan was filled with spirited talk of their successful first hunt, albeit that Balthier did most of the talking and Fran satisfied herself with listening and agreeing with him. Something that wasn't voiced, but was clear in both their minds, was the certainty that they had found in one another a companion equally skilled and trustworthy.

..

Many hunts followed after that and it didn't take the duo long to earn enough gil for the first modifications of the Strahl - as Balthier soon started to affectionately call the airship - Her exterior was now nothing like that of the prototype and inside they'd made quite a comfortable den for themselves to retreat in. The armoury, from which they took and sold every weapon that had been in it, was now divided into two separate quarters and turned into soberly decorated bedrooms. The beds were comfortable enough and that was all either one of them really cared about after spending weeks sleeping in the cockpit's chairs. The stockroom had been changed into something of a kitchen, though neither of them knew the first thing about cooking and they usually ended up eating at one of the city's taverns. The only things found in the fridge of their new kitchen were drinks and food that needed no treatment other than being munched down.

It was here that they encountered each other after returning from a long day's hunt. Fran was already seated at the small square table that served as their dinner-table when Balthier returned from the city where she'd left him earlier. He walked in stretching his back with quite some noise and flung a small gil-pouch on the table in front of the Viera upon passing her towards the fridge.

"Your cut."

Fran didn't even touch the gil-pouch and turned to find him downing half a bottle of soda in one deep draught. "This is for the ship."

"It's yours. We've made all the modifications we need." Balthier said as he took a seat across her at the table with the rest of his drink.

"But you have other plans for the Strahl." Fran objected. "She is far from finished."

"I know, but we've worked hard enough the past few weeks and I felt we deserve to take some for ourselves first." Balthier held up a hand from which the index- and middle finger were decorated by colourful sets of rings. "Like them?"

So that was what her partner had been up to in the city. Fran now noticed he also wore trinkets in his ears and she found them very fitting for him.

"I have no use for this." She motioned to the gil-pouch on the table in front of her.

Balthier stopped in the midst of taking another sip of his drink looking at her as though she had just popped up on the chair out of nowhere. "What do you mean? It's yours. You earned it. Use it to buy something nice for yourself."

"I have everything I need."

"What about a new bow or new clothes? The gil is yours, Fran. You can buy whatever you want with it." Balthier insisted thinking she was just being modest.

Fran looked herself down skeptically. "Is there something wrong with my clothes?"

To his horror Balthier started to blush. Except for the fact that it was far too revealing for him to be comfortable having this discussion, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her leathery black attire.

"N-no, of course not." He stammered but soon his eloquence won it from his nerves and he recovered saying: "That's not what I meant. I just think you should enjoy the spoils. This is what being a Sky Pirate is all about."

"My clothes are fine and so is my bow." Fran pushed the gil-pouch towards him over the table. "Use this for the Strahl. We can start on that invisibility-shield you talked about earlier."

Balthier was baffled as it turned out the Viera wasn't just being modest but simply wasn't prone to materialism like himself and this only strengthened his belief of her divinity. Closer to the Gods indeed. "I can't. It wouldn't be right. Please just take it. Restock on potions or something."

"You just bought potions." Fran pointed out the stuffed quality-hide pouch hanging from his belt.

Balthier couldn't help but feel proud that she put so much trust in him as her companion. He clearly hadn't failed to prove himself worthy and she expected him to fulfill his role as the Leading Man. Even so using her money to update the Strahl wouldn't feel right. He took the gil-pouch from the table and held it up to her. "I will keep this for you until you find use for it."

Fran decided against arguing with him because in the short time they'd spent as companions she'd come to know him as a chivalrous young man and she should've known better than to refuse taking that which he considered rightfully hers. All this naturally was nothing but silliness to her: she had no desire for worldly possessions other than her bow. She hadn't come to enjoy being a Sky Pirate because of the riches it brought, she treasured the impressions every hunt left her with, images she could recall and relive. That was what true wealth meant to her, a lifetime of memories. Humes, she had discovered years ago, understood little of this concept and were drawn to tangible possessions, things they could see and touch and show off to others. Her young companion was no different in this.

"Keep it you may Balthier, but I doubt if I shall ever find use for it."


	6. V Friends

**Chapter V. Friends**

The Viera usually kept to herself, her wise eyes drifting to take in her surroundings thoroughly or just staring out in blank space to something Balthier suspected only she could see. He was certain that she pondered many deep thoughts like him but that she went deeper than his Hume-mind ever could. Strange his companion was, and fascinating. He perceived her to be young, her looks suggested that, but the depths of her eyes were timeless, carrying the wisdom of many ages of this world. She was not undying in the true sense as the Occuria were, but comparing her lifespan to that of a Hume, it wasn't that different from being immortal. She had walked this Ivalice longer than several a mortal men's lifetimes and he found himself often battling the urge to ask her flat out how old she really was. Naturally he could never actually go so far as to do this, every man knew that such a thing would be indecent, but he wanted to nonetheless.

His companion's presence had him in a constant state of awe. He would look at her from the corner of his eye, carefully exploring every inch of her and sometimes he caught himself staring at her openly unable to tear his eyes from the enigma she was. She took little heed of his glances, probably dismissing them as silly Hume behaviour or perhaps not caring that he was so very spellbound by her. It might also be so that she was accustomed to having others stare at her; whenever they were in the city she drew much attention of the folk and how could she not with her extraordinary length and strong yet feminine build, those long furred ears and piercing amber eyes made to look right through a person.

It soon became apparent that the Viera never talked unless it was absolutely necessary. Naturally Balthier felt rejected at first when she successfully ignored his every attempt to engage her in conversation: not being talkative and disregarding someone completely were two entirely different things and frankly he found it rather rude of her, divine being or no. After a while he came to see that she was in fact quite willing to talk, and do a great deal of that, but only if it had purpose. She wasn't one to engage in social niceties and he told himself that he would do well not to hold her up to his Hume standards. Giving it deeper thought it only made sense that god-like beings, as the Viera so obviously were, would refuse to waste their time on trivialities such as idle talk.

Still, taking into account how fascinated he was with her, he wasn't about to cease his attempts of getting her attention. He wanted very much to unravel the mystery she was and after another one of his witty remarks that seemingly went by her unnoticed he said playfully:

"Come on, Fran. Now that we're Sky-pirating companions you must partake in the occasional casual conversation with me."

She turned to face him, those strange eyes searching his face deeply as though considering whether he was something worth paying attention to.

"The peoples of Ivalice talk so much it makes my ears ring." Fran cocked a distasteful brow and twitched one of her long white-furred ears to emphasize her words. "I understand it not. Speech is overly appreciated amongst your kind. You have lost your feeling with your instincts and rely solely on sight and speech. There is much to learn from sounds in the silence."

Balthier wasn't as much offended by her reprimand as he was intrigued to have finally managed tempting her into conversation. Now that he'd come to learn that everything the Viera said had to be of importance or she wouldn't bother speaking, he decided to try a different approach. He so set out to assure her that this conversation would serve a purpose, though in reality he couldn't care what they talked about as long as he had her attention.

"I value silence and I have no desire for mindless babble but talk sometimes serves other means. It can, for one, further acquaint us with one another. I do believe a team can only be formed when both parties know a good deal about the other."

The Viera thought about this for a while and eventually gave him one of her rare half-smiles telling him she agreed.

"I see, well then what would you talk of?" Fran asked.

"You could tell me about your homeland." Balthier suggested rather too boldly in his own opinion and his heart actually leapt in his chest when silence fell between them. He eyed her apprehensively, fearing he'd blown his chance of talking with her.

Fran had never before talked to anyone about her homeland and she couldn't quite understand why she felt the need to do so now, but when she saw again the inquisitiveness in the young man that was so very like her own she couldn't find it in her heart to refuse. How many beings had shared their stories with her and how much wisdom had she received from them? They all helped form her views on the world and its people. Who was she to deny this young man knowledge when he craved it so, even if it would be painful to talk of the tree-dwellers land?

Balthier's heart jumped into motion again rapping against his ribs when the silence was broken by her hoarse voice and he listened breathlessly as Fran told him of Golmore Jungle and the mysterious village of Eruyt, taking note not only of what she said but also of how she said it, the pleasant tone and accent in which she spoke trickling over him like droplets of silk. There was no doubt left in his mind that she was indeed a divine being, an enchantress likely for she captivated him and her words swept him off to her village as if he was physically walking upon its green paths.

It was because of his enthrallment that he did not immediately notice the sadness shining in her luminous amber eyes but when he did he felt that great injustice had be done: anyone with the heart to hurt such a beautiful creature was an evil. So overpowering her grieve was that he could feel it as if being his own and it was a shock to learn that it was by the hand of her own kin that she was filled with this heartrending sorrow.

"But they can't possibly deny you return to your own land." Balthier eventually spoke feeling the need to say something, anything to stop the with sadness impregnated silence that had settled between them.

"I no longer belong there. The day I left Eruyt I became one of the outer world dwellers. I am as you now, a Hume and Humes do not belong in the woods." Fran simply said.

"But… that… that is… That just isn't right." Balthier sputtered thrown by the sudden cold decisiveness in her voice. "How can they say you are a Hume?"

"Not they. Me. I consider myself one of your kind." Fran clarified.

"But you're nothing like us!" Balthier hollered indelicately though he only meant to stress how high he thought of her.

Fran actually jerked back in her chair, blown back as if being slapped in the face by that last comment. If she wasn't Viera in the eyes of her kin, and not considered one of their kind by the Humes with whom she'd lived the larger part of her life, than what was she? Where did she belong if not here?

Her companion, always quick to comprehend situations, clearly noticed how his words had affected her for he struggled now to take them back, stumbling over his tongue in his hurry to comfort her. His hand moved to rest on top of hers lying folded together on the tabletop but came to a jerky halt mere inches before coming in contact and hovered indecisively in mid-air. The look on his face was unsure and she could almost imagine him biting his lip in awkwardness. Saving him from further embarrassment she retrieved her own hands and placed them in her lap instead, wondering whether she was intimidating to him in some way. The furtive looks he'd been giving her the past weeks sure made that a credible assumption.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I wasn't suggesting you don't belong here either..."

"It's alright. I understand." Fran broke him off calmly and she did finally come to understand why people reacted to her the way they did.

The young man eased up visibly after her words and sat back with casually folded arms, but his regained calmness had an artificial feel to it: he certainly wasn't as composed around her as he desired to be. Fran couldn't think of anything about herself that might make him feel uncomfortable, but it wasn't strange to her. Others were often uneasy in her presence. She'd never considered this was because of her origin though: the Viera had approached her in the same way so she always assumed it was something in her person that made others nervous. After what he just said she reckoned it could very well have something to do with her descent, Humes might indeed not consider her one of their own.

"Why do I make you nervous, Balthier?"

"What? Y-You don't… make me nervous..." Balthier stammered and knowing he was doing a horrible job in proving her wrong when he saw her unimpressed face he added reluctantly: "Well maybe a little, but that's just because I know nothing about the ways of your kind and I would feel horrible if I offended you or anything."

The more he said, the higher her neat brows rose and the more he longed to just sink into the ground without ever emerging again. Still words kept rolling from his tongue doing more damage until he was certain that she would never want to talk to him again, but all she said was:

"I never made your father nervous."

"Well I reckon he never did as much as look at you." Balthier was now way past wanting to kick himself for all the stupid things he said, he was about ready to grab his Sirius and just shoot himself in the head. "I mean, all he cared about was in which way you could help him become a better scientist. He wouldn't have cared about..."

"Me being a Viera?" Fran finished for him. "Indeed he cared not."

Balthier couldn't shake the feeling that he was up to his chin in a puddle of mud and that every word he spoke just dragged him down deeper into it until he would finally be submerged completely. He dared not say anything else fearing it would only make things worse. This wasn't what he intended when he tricked her into talking with him. He wasn't supposed to be backed into a corner at a loss of what to say like this. All he wanted was to get to know more about her, not to upset her and that seemed to be exactly what he was doing.

"It was not a bad thing that your father failed to see any differences between us. He gave me a home where I felt welcome and he became my friend." Fran said.

She suppressed a sigh when she came to realise how much she really missed Cid. Not the deluded Cid she left, but the eager young man she met long ago. To lose him had been as painful, if not more, than losing touch with her own kin and perhaps that was the reason why she'd felt so compelled to leave with Balthier. Was she only here hoping to find a friend in him instead? It had felt so significant at the time, the will to leave, but she wasn't sure anymore. It seemed foolish suddenly to have rushed off so rashly without even understanding why. Not that she wasn't having a good time, being a Sky Pirate was thrilling, but she couldn't help wonder if her instinct might've been wrong. Nothing spectacular had happened so far, not in her own life and certainly not in the lives of others as she had been so convinced it would.

Whatever it was that had brought her here, she was positive about one thing and voiced this quite plain: "I would very much like us to become friends."

"F-Friends?" Balthier echoed perplexed, still being under the impression that he'd completely destroyed any chance of friendliness between them.

She nodded and when she smiled at him in full for the first time all he noticed was how her eyes turned to twinkling slits and the little dimples in her cheeks. It was the most adorable smile he'd ever seen and at the same time a gesture so mundane that it made her seem more Hume than he thought possible.

"Yes of course we can be friends." He hurried to say.

"I am glad." She said and as she rose the adoring smile was replaced by her usual detached exterior. "Good night, Balthier."

"G-Good night, Fran."

And with that Balthier was left behind wondering how he would ever manage to see the mysterious Viera as but a friend when she strode so solemnly, so heavenly out of the kitchen.


End file.
